


Her Hair Beneath my Fingers

by theelderfish



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, This is a school work I wrote with these two in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theelderfish/pseuds/theelderfish
Summary: “After all,” Ophelia drawled, mouth stained red with pomegranate, “I have you for warmth.”Nocturnal wonders why Ophelia stays.





	Her Hair Beneath my Fingers

Nocturnal could not remember the last time she had slept through the night. She could not remember, as she watched the starflecked sky twinkle, the last time she had watched Ophelia’s grin spread across her cheeks or the last time she had felt Ophelia’s hair tangled in her fingers.

Sitting before her laptop, worrying frigid fingers over gooseflesh covered arms, Nocturnal could not remember the last time she had even _looked_ at Ophelia with something other than passing wonder. A headache had taken a hammer to her temples, thumping against her eyes.

The apartment was silent, the frantic barking of upstairs dog long since extinguished. Nocturnal padded through the hallway, cold-kissed floorboards cradling her cramping feet. They had been Ophelia’s idea, one humid summer afternoon, to have oak floorboards line the hall and kitchen. “After all,” Ophelia had drawled, mouth stained red with pomegranate, “I have you for warmth.” 

The lounge was empty, tv shimmering through the opening of Dorian Grey. Beneath the glowing birds lining the roof sat two plates, one empty and the other filled with a chocolate filled croissant, innocently beside Nocturnal’s favourite iridescent mug.

She ate in silence.

Nocturnal stared at the card enshrined in crumbs on the other plate, worrying at the gooseflesh lining her knees. It was unadorned, save for the gold filigree snaking along the border, shaking softly in the dim light. Inside were four words, in bold blue cursive.

I’m here for you. 

Nocturnal sipped at her coffee, swallowing the sugar tar thickly. The cushion beside her held a light indent, warmth clinging to its fibres.

How long, Nocturnal wondered, flicking off the tv, had Ophelia sat on the couch waiting. How long had Ophelia sat, an empty spot and full plate beside her, waiting for Nocturnal to finally appear?

Nocturnal emptied her mug down the sink. There was the feeling of hair tangled through her fingers she longed to remember.


End file.
